Payment
by BeastieMaker
Summary: Kero's finally gone and done it. He's ticked off Kururu, sadist, madman and above all mastermind. Now Kuru's using all of his tricks to make the squad suffer until Keroro gives him what he wants. But will the stubborn leader ever give in?
1. Bad Tidings

Keroro was reading manga when the door opened suddenly. Absorbed in his reading, the green frog failed to hear the quiet footsteps until they stopped in front of him.

That was his first mistake.

The leader looked up to see Kururu, tactical support for the squad and mad scientist. As usual his yellow body was quaking with laughter, his spiral mark moving up and down in an almost hypnotizing manner. His laughter finished after a bit and he edged close to Kero in almost a chummy way. His thick glasses prevented Keroro from seeing his eyes but Kero knew they would be sharp with greed.

"Ku ku ku…So, do you have my payment?"

Kero swallowed dryly, his eyes darting around the room. Kururu's eyes still could not be seen and his posture did not change but somehow he seemed a bit more menacing as he lowered his voice and asked "You do have it….Don't you? Ku ku ku…"

The little green frog's eyes roamed the room ceaselessly, desperate for an excuse. "A-Ah, well you see…"

Keroro stopped, his eyes twirling in his head as his mind grasped for an excuse. Kururu watched silently, one eyebrow crooking. "Yes? Go on…Ku ku ku…"

"I, ah…spent your paycheck on Gunpla models."

The yellow frog drew back, all pretenses of humor dropped. His voice was cold as stone. "Kero, we already discussed this. I will go along with whatever stupid plan you have without question and tolerate all of the idiocies of our squad. And in return I get funds for my experiments."

"But Kuru! Look at this wonderful Gunpla I bought!" Kero held up a gaudy package as if it were the key to the world, his joy was only matched by the yellow frog's anger.

"Kero, you go back and refund that right now, or so help me I'll put my foot down. I don't have time for your childish games and I don't have time for Gunpla."

Keroro waved his hand dismissively as he cooed "Ah, it figures you wouldn't understand the value of this model. Only truly intellectual people like me can grasp the true majesty of these wonderful things. It's non-refundable anyway."

Kururu clenched his fists, an uncharacteristically violent response for him and stomped out. However, at the back door he paused and looked back at Keroro, who was back to reading his manga. For the very first time he lowered his glasses, revealing madly glinting eyes.

"You will regret that descision. Until I am paid I will make your life hell, _Sergeant_ Keroro."

He left, laughing coldly. Somehow they seemed to echo around Gunso's head, giving him the chills. He had never heard Kururu laugh so…malevolently before.

Little did he know that the horrible laugh of Kururu would become all to familiar.

--

**DUN DUN DUN~~~**

**Yes, I know, I should probably be writing something that's actually on schedule, but recently I discovered Keroro Gunso and I just had to write a story about my very favorite character, the concept is liked I will publish more chapters. Just a hint of what's to come~**

**Mandatory anger management classes for Giroro**

**Gunpla murder**

**Tamara's mouth being taped shut**

**Dororo unmasked**

**And much much more~**

**So yeah, if you like it rate it and say so.**

_**All characters belong to whomsoever made this whacked up series. Which is obviously not me or I wouldn't have to write this disclaimer.**_


	2. Lockdown

Kero opened his eyes to another beautiful day and sighed happily. He was relieved Kururu had left quietly, instead of pummeling him as he had expected.

"But then again I am squad leader, and he's not, Gero gero gero." Kero laughed to himself as he slipped out of bed. "I wonder what Fuyuki's doing today?"

--

Far beneath the earth, quiet laughter could be heard.

"Ku~ ku ku…Ku~ ku ku…"

It started out small, but resonated through pipes and metal. It echoed back and forth in chambers of steel until it reached a deafening crescendo. It raged into a din…

…And then, all at once, it stopped.

There was the tiny sound of a button being pushed, and two words.

"I press."

--

"Good morning Kero, have you seen Giroro anywhere?"

Kero stopped still on his way to the kitchen and considered Fuyuki's question. Oddly enough, he hadn't seen the angry red frog yet. Usually it was Giroro that woke him with some plot to take over Pekopan, but that morning he was allowed to wake slowly.

"No, I haven't seen him. I wonder where he is?" Kero wondered aloud as he wandered into the living room.

"I can tell you..." A smug voice intoned

Keroro didn't bother to turn around. "Lister Kuru, you're not getting any money until next week, so don't even bother."

Kero strode towards the sliding door, aiming to go out and get some fresh air, but was stopped as a sheet of metal slammed down, preventing escape.

"Ku~ ku ku….Ku~ ku ku ku ku…"

Kero's fingers twitched as he heard numerous other slams and knew all hope for escape was gone. Kero turned to see a large plasma TV suspended from one of the walls, and on it was none other than Kururu, looking smug as he absently twirled a cable around his finger.

"So, would you like to know where Giroro is? Ku~ ku ku…"

Kero chose to remain silent and he saw it rewarded as Kururu's smile faded, unhappy with the mute response. However his grin was back in a flash as he leaned close to the screen announcing his big surprise.

"Giroro…is with me! Kukukuku!" Kero's eyes bulged as the yellow alien leaned to the side revealing an unconscious Giroro. Though it didn't seem like the red frog was injured, he was wrapped in metal cables and unarmed. Kururu moved back to the middle of the screen, laughing triumphantly.

"Ku~ ku ku! As you can see, Giroro, is safe and sound. But that can change very quickly." His voice turned sad as he continued. "I'm willing to let bygones be bygones but my friend Mr. Wallet here has lost so much weight lately…Won't you give him something to eat?"

Kero put his hands out in front of him in a pleading gesture "I told you, my Gunpla is non-refundable…"

Kururu's gaze did not flicker, but his mouth turned downward in a frown. Casually, he shifted in his chair, from a sitting position to resting sideways, one hand supporting his head. "Everything is refundable, you just have to ask hard enough. Apparently I haven't been asking properly." He paused to readjust his glasses, which somehow seemed threatening to Kero "Well then, I guess I'll just have to motivate you then. You'll pay me in tears and blood or you'll pay me in cash. Either way, it's green."

He looked to the side for a moment, seeming pensive. "Anyway, aren't you forgetting something?"

Kero blinked, confused. "I don't think so…Am I forgetting that one blue guy again…what's his name .. Dororo?"

Kururu stared at Kero long and hard, then answered "No. I'll give you a hint, it starts 'Fuyu' and ends with 'ki'."

Kero sighed and scratched his head, thinking hard. He looked back up at Kururu, pleading with his eyes. "Can I have another hint?"

Kururu froze, sweat beading on his forehead as a vein pulsed in his neck. "...No."

Kero sat down and thought until his skull pounded with the effort. Finally it came to him. "Fuyuki! He was here just a moment ago! Kururu, what did you do to him?"

"The Pekopan are fine…Ku ku ku…But you won't be seeing them anytime soon. At least, not until Mr. Wallet gets fed." The frog yawned and sat up. "Well, Giro will be waking soon and I need to deal with him accordingly. Do consider donating to Mr. Wallet's worthy cause, Ku ku ku..."

The flat screen TV went blank and retreated into the wall, leaving Kero alone and fairly creeped out.

--

Kururu got up and stretched. Already he could hear Giroro moaning and squirming against his ties. Despite himself, he found himself constantly surprised by Giroro's endurance and will. The tranquilizer he'd slipped into Giro's glass should have been enough to knock an elephant out for days, the red veteran was barely kept down for an hour.

"Wh-what the hell is this?!" Giroro screamed, his eyes shooting open into full consciousness as he thrashed against the ropes that kept him down.

Kururu giggled, replying "Now, now, Giro. I only want to talk to you."

"Well this is a sick way to do it! Let me go damn it!" Giroro screamed furiously, practically biting at the cables that wound around his arms.

"I don't want to. You'll hurt me." Kururu replied, faking fear for a few moments before breaking out in mocking laughter.

"DAMN WELL I WILL!" Giroro screamed, thrashing against the floor like a fish out of water. He stopped still as Kururu dangled a remote in front of his face teasingly.

"Don't get too riled up now, as I said before I only want to talk, Sergeant Major to Corporal. Promise me you won't hurt me and I'll let you go."

Giroro grinned like a piranha and replied. "I promise not to hurt you."

Kururu pressed a button on the remote and the coils of wire restraining Giroro condensed into a tight disc. Giroro stood up and brushed himself off; then dashed to Kururu so quickly he was almost unseen and forced a gun between the madman's eyes. In response, Kururu laughed coldly. A million red dots trained on Giroro's stunned face as numerous turrets sprouted from the walls, seeming to know their creator was in danger.

"Ku~ ku ku…I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Gieroro looked around him, saw no way out, and dejectedly lowered his weapon. The turrets retreated into the walls, but their presence was still felt, a looming reminder that he was in Kururu's territory. He sighed, defeated.

"So, what do you want to talk about?"

Kururu snickered and replied "As you know, I am higher in rank than you and can give you orders. Therefore I order you to attend mandatory cooking lessons."

"W-w-w-WHAT?" Giroro stammered. "YOU MUST BE MAD!"

Kururu inclined his head and regarded Giroro from over his glasses. "I will never understand why you people feel the redundant need to state the obvious. You don't have any choice anyway, I am of higher rank than you and…" Kururu snapped his fingers and a hole opened up under Giroro, sending him screaming to the darkness below.

"…I'm smarter than you. If you dislike it take it up with the leader."

--

**I was honestly surprised that anyone would read, let alone review this story, but I was overjoyed when you did. So I must thank you, fair reader, for motivating me and making me want to write the next chunk.**

**What will horrors will Giroro face? Will he really be forced to take cooking lessons? How will Keroro get enough money to pay off Kururu? Why am I asking you all of these questions?**

**Find out on the next chunk of _Payment_!**

_**All charcters belong to whatever crazy mind came up with this show. And the mind that came up with this crazy show should get a gold star.**_

**P.S.**** Thanks to all those people that pointed out to me that I'd accidentally copied the chapter and pasted it TWICE. This was part my crappy computer and part my negligence so I appologize. I seriously wondering why this chapter was so gosh darn long but I didn't really check and probably wouldn't have if it wasn't for you people, so I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Have a theoretical cookie.  
**


	3. Cooking Lessons

Giroro thumped his head onto the counter, his face more scarlet than usual. His hate and frustration could not be explained in mortal words, or at least ones that could be used in mixed company. Part of the rage could have been explained by the stereotypical chef's hat glued to his head, another large chunk could be explained by the large apron that proudly bore the words "Kiss the Cook" on it's front.

However, the source of most of the fury coursing through his veins could be accounted for by the yellow Keronian standing before him. Kururu wore a hat to match Giroro's and an apron that bore his signature insignia. Giroro's tormentor stood with his arms crossed, a ladle held menacingly in one hand as he tapped his foot impatiently.

"We'll go through this again. Remember, the potatoes go in first, as they take the longest to cook, then the carrots and THEN the curry. And don't forget to put love in it this time. Hate sours the beef."

Something in Giroro snapped as he heard the madman's cynical tone droll out once again his failure. He slammed his hands down on the table as he screamed his complaints. "I have been down here for hours with a ridiculous chef's outfit glued to my head and neck while you yell at me for failing to cook a dish I've never made! I would break every bone in your body for this but you've taken my weapons! Why do you expect me to cook such a ridiculous meal anyway? And how am I supposed to put love into food when you have a million rockets trailed at my face?"

As if on cue, Giroro was covered in tiny red dots, each one representing a turret primed and ready to shoot him so full of holes that a cheese grater would look smooth by comparison.

Kururu shook his head and tapped his foot even faster. "Obviously you require more training in the fine culinary arts. It is evident that Curry, the very GOD of food is far beyond your reach. So I guess I have to teach you the fine skill of making cake until you grasp the basics of cooking."

A vein bulged in the red frogs head as those words reached his ears. A small part of his brain shrilled that the turrets were still aimed on him but that part was drowned out by the rest of his brain which roared "kill."

Giroro leapt into a full flying leap, his arms outstretched to silence the mocking mechanic once and for all. In response Kururu smirked and pressed two hidden buttons on his headphones.

A sound so shrill and high-pitched that it could barely be heard resonated from the radar dishes that now sprouted from his headphones. The sonic blast scored a direct hit and Giroro was send sprawling on the floor, clutching his head in pain.

It's job done, the small dishes retreated from view, a hidden weapon once again. As the ringing in Giroro's head died down he asked, half in a daze. "W…what was that?"

Kururu smirked and held up a CD case in response. It proudly portrayed three chipmunks in human clothing doing various "wacky" and disrespectful poses. Written across it's front in florescent letters were the words "The Chipmunks Album."

Kururu's explanation was punctuated with mocking laughter. "I found this advertised on the Pekopan television soon after I landed. Apparently it's comprised of popular songs edited to make the singer's voices seem high pitched and marketed to gullible fools. I stole a copy and sped it up to supersonic speed for use as a sonic weapon. You just heard the entire album one-hundred thousand times in a matter of seconds. I hope you enjoyed it."

Giroro moaned and fell over, certain that more than a few of his brain cells had died. As Kururu considered kicking him to make him get up an alarm sounded. Kururu scowled and threw his apron and hat to the floor, where a small robot scurried up to collect it. A screen descended from the unseen ceiling above showing a small blue frog determinedly attacking the steel plates covering the house.

Kururu sighed and pressed another button. An intimidating cylinder of technology descended. It bristled with wires and cables and several electronic eyes of various colors swiveled to meet his gaze. Kururu suppressed a smile as he addressed one of his better creations.

"GLaDOS, I want you to teach Giroro here to make cake. He's stubborn so don't be afraid to use negative reinforcement."

GLaDOS swiveled several whirring parts as it processed this new information. After filing the information away into it's data banks it replied in a chilling female voice that echoed throughout the depths of his lab. "COMMAND AFFIRMED. TEACH SUBJECT 0125 "GIRORO" TO MAKE CAKE. USE FORCE IF NECESSARY."

Kururu nodded happily and pressed a hidden button on the floor. A small floating disc descended from the upper reaches of his lab and hovered before him. He stepped on the disc and it whisked him away with nary a sound.

--

Dororo paused in his attack for a moment. He couldn't see anything but somehow he knew that he was being watched. After several moments of sitting stock still he returned to his assault on the plates covering the house.

A couple of days ago he had sensed a disturbance and, thinking it to be another alien attack, decided to meet with his comrades, to plan and if nothing else, warn them. However his arrival was dampened as he came to find the house a fortress, impenetrable from the outside. Strangely all of his secret entrances were blocked as well, someone had not forgotten him, it seemed.

But he was determined to get in. For several days he had stood there attacking the same spot relentlessly, stopping only when his anti-barrier ran out or when he was too exhausted to continue.

He sighed and wiped the sweat from his forehead, marveling at the technology in play. The entire house was concealed by an anti-barrier of a special sort. Any Pekopan to see the house would simply find the house in normal order, no armored plates, only tile and wood.

He flopped to the ground, exhausted but not defeated. The problem with attacking steel plates on a hot sunny day is that you inevitably overheat, especially if you're a small alien frog.

He heard a small whirring but put it down as one of the various structures that adorned the house. They were everywhere, taking the weather, testing humidity, and straining to pick up enemy signatures. Each one had it's own personal anti-barriers and since he didn't know what they did he preferred to leave them alone. Besides, it was so hot and he was so tired. He didn't want to move if he could avoid it.

He closed his eyes and let the sweat roll off him down the slope of the roof. He sighed, _It would be a wonderful day if only there was a bit of wind…_He thought wistfully as the sweat beading on his forehead streaked downwards. The whirring grew louder but he ignored it still, after all, who knew what these weird machines did.

His eyes twitched open as the whirring grew ever louder. Something was not right here, the sky seemed to have tilted while he rested and the whirring had acquired a slightly menacing tone…

Dororo screamed in shock as mechanical arms wound themselves around him, preventing both attack and escape. With a dizzying sensation of speed he was pulled backwards and down into a hatch that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. He caught one last blinding glimpse of the sky before plunging down into darkness.

--

**Ahaha, sorry for all of the delays. Times are hard and internet providers are stingy bastards. Also I've been dealing with writer's block so forgive me if this chapter is rather shorter than usual. Anyway, onto the suspenseful narration...*ahem***

**What will happen to Dororo?? How does this advance Kururu's plans to get paid? What happened to all the Pekopan??? Find out in the next severely delayed chapter of Payment!**

**_Keroro Gunso does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who created it and all of their lawyers. I still refuse to look up the name of crazy person who comes up with this crap and I don't think I ever will._  
**


	4. Trauma

Dororo woke slowly, the throbbing in his head and body forcing him to lay in agony unable to think. Slowly, painfully he sat up and inspected his situation. His skin had turned dark blue from where the hands had grabbed him and he had a painful lump on his head but nothing seemed to be broken. The thing that worried him was his lack of a sword, it seemed that whoever took him here did not want him armed.

Slowly he stood and walked the perimeter of the room. Strangely aside from a small hole he assumed to be the toilet he could not find any sort of furnishings, not even any lamps. The only reason he could see were the small lights that flashed or glowed off on one side of the room. Perplexed he proceeded to walk towards the lights only to meet steel bars.

_Ah, now I understand. It's not a room, it's a cell. _He mused silently as the lights began to flicker with increased speed and intensity. Familiar cruel laughter echoed around him as a screen slowly descended into view.

"_Ku~ ku ku ku…_"

Kururu's grinning face filled Dororo's vision as the light from the screen destroyed his night vision.

"Kururu, why are you locking me up like this? I haven't done anything to you."

Kururu leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands thoughtfully. "Dororo, when will you learn? You are a threat, and threats must be eliminated. That's why assassins like you exist. I am merely ridding myself of a potential problem, nothing less, nothing more."

Dororo felt cold sweat run down his neck, Kururu wasn't like this. He wasn't laughing nearly as much as he should've been and he seemed colder somehow…The only time he'd ever seen Kururu like this was back on Keron when…

"Kururu, what has happened? You haven't been like this since-"

Kururu cut him off by slamming his fist down in an unusual show of rage. "Shut up! Don't dredge up such useless things!" He seemed to regain his composure and quietly added. "…It doesn't concern you anyway…"

Kururu pressed a button and the screen blanked out, though his voice still reverberated.

"Nothing personal, by the way, but I need some leeway with Keroro and you happen to be childhood friends…"

Dororo knew what was coming even before the screen flicked back on. He tried to cover his eyes but it was already too late. The screen flooded with unpleasant images from his past as a faraway voice proclaimed: "**Trauma Switch On**"

--

Swearing softly, Kururu cleaned his glasses. To think he'd lost his cool over something as trivial as…

But it wasn't that trivial. It was his past, and he was a fool to forget it. Still, those were not memories he'd like to relive anytime soon…

He felt a twinge of guilt as he realized the irony of the situation, after all it was Dororo and his Trauma Switch that inspired others to remember their past troubles…He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Guilt? Sympathy? These were not good feelings in an invader and less so for an intelligence officer. And yet he'd been having these internal struggles more and more frequently as time went on…

He leaned back, pensive. _It's this damn planet…_ He thought bitterly _It makes you soft and sentimental. It makes you a part of it, whether you realize it or not. Well, I won't go soft anytime soon…_

--

Keroro screamed and clawed at the sheet of metal that stood between him and escape. Everywhere he looked there were those damn plasma screens showing live feeds of his platoon suffering. It was driving him mad.

His only solace was that Kururu hadn't found Tamama or Doro…

"Oh shit." He muttered under his breath as the figure of Dororo's hunched figure flooded the screens. The aura of depression around him was nearly visible as the ninja relived his troubled past.

Keroro felt the cold stone of guilt in his heart as he watched his childhood friend suffer for his misdeeds. He screamed, clawed at his ears, and dropped to the floor, defeated by exhaustion and hunger.

As the world around him faded he heard Dororo's voice echoing hollowly.

"…Keroro-kun, how could you do such horrible things?"

To this, Keroro did not have an answer.

--

**Yes I know it's a terribly short chapter and it's late too, but I've been busy. My handicapped mother is back from the hospital and I have to care for her so my production rate is WAY down. Not only that but I've been staving off writers block at every turn. Anyway, you didn't come to hear me bitch so here's the disclaimer:**

_**I do not, nor will I ever own Keroro Gunso, that is way to 1337 even for me. I claim no rights to this crap or the money it will not produce. So suck on that ya lawyers!**_

***Ahem* So now the bit where I go all announcer on you and drop hints about the content of the next chapter in a voice like one of those Saturday morning cartoon narrators. **

**_What will happen to Keroro as he is passed out in the clutches of Kururu? What is the yellow frog's mysterious past? WHERE THE HECK IS TAMAMA? Does anyone care about what happened to the Pekopan?_**

**_Find out all this and maybe more in the next chapter of Payment!_**

**P.S. I'll be trying to pump these out more frequently as I work on other things, like school and my other various fanfiction. So don't give up on that next chapter; it's in the wings somewhere.  
**


	5. Reminisce

Kururu kicked his leader's recumbent form.

Stupid. Stupid. _Stupid_.

Honestly, how long did Keroro expect to last when he ran around the house like a madman, not eating sleeping or drinking but calling out for his Platoon in the feeble hope that they were okay? He'd neglected his own health and now he had fainted. This was why Kururu hated his leader so. He didn't think, he only acted upon his various whims.

And yet somehow Kururu felt a strange admiration for his failure of a leader. He had done all of this for his friends. He had searched ceaselessly, pounding on doors and windows in the hope of rescuing his Platoon. It was stupid and futile, but he did it anyway. Stupid. Stupid and admirable.

Kururu stopping kicking Keroro's limp body and walked into the kitchen. He fussed about for a bit before coming back out holding a plate of curry and a glass of water. Quietly, he set them down beside the green invader before leaving. As he went, he muttered to himself.

"He won't do any good to me like this anyway…" He muttered as if justifying the act of kindness to himself.

--

Kururu sat with his head on his keyboard, reflecting. Funny how Dororo had made him think, usually the guy was so inconspicuous that what he said wasn't even noticed. Funny what kind of thoughts you get from listening to such a shadow of a person…

How long ago had it been? The time before he'd laughed and joked, the days when he made inventions that could maim and kill with excessive power? The days when he had drive and ambition?

Kururu closed his eyes and immersed himself in his past.

He'd been young, young and foolish and burning with the desire to rise in the world. He'd been smart too, but he'd always been smart; it was a part of who he was. He'd also been serious. He'd never laugh or smile, something that unnerved those around him.

But who could blame him? His parents had no time for him, so he'd wandered freely, even as an infant. They'd trusted in their little genius's judgment more than their own sometimes.

The children at school provided no friendship for him either. They hated him. Hated him because he was smarter and because they feared him. They'd torment him, every day, and he would run home, tears in his eyes. But no one would comfort him. No one would hold him in their arms and tell him they loved him. So he cried alone.

And eventually he learned anger. From his sorrows came the black seeds of rage. He hated the children back. He hated his parents. He hated everyone in the world for not understanding him. He wanted them all dead.

So he built a machine. A terrible machine. A killing machine. And he unleashed it on his fellow classmates.

And how good it had felt, to see their mocking faces twisted in fear as they suffered. He'd been positively giddy with the joy of it. He remembered laughing, quietly at first, but louder and more strongly as blood poured from his torturers making the very ground slick with gore.

And then it stopped. He was arrested, his machine was destroyed, and everyone moaned about how they never would've suspected anything wrong in "sweet little Kururu."

He'd expected a life behind bars and possibly a straightjacket to match. But the government intervened and he was given a choice: work for the Keron Army or live in a room with soft walls. He'd chosen the obvious.

And they made his life wonderful. He was given whatever he needed to make whatever he wanted. He'd lived in the very lap of luxury as they let him do what he did best. Their only order was to make more killing machines, to which he'd happily obliged. And life was great, for a time anyway.

Then he was invited to see his weapons in action, a sort of overhead view of a battlefield. He'd come thinking to improve the design and get inspiration. He remembered seeing the soldiers line up in neat little formations as they faced their enemy. He'd seen that the enemy were Keronians and had asked what they were killing them for. They had replied that the enemy were rebels who opposed the use of Kururu's weapons, claiming them to be too cruel.

He remembered the horror as the two lines clashed and he saw what his weapons could do. The rebels were decimated, some driven mad, some losing limbs and most being reduced to bloody smears on the ground. He still had nightmares of that scene 'till this day.

He remembered the walk back to his labs, through the slums. There were many orphans, and many of those orphans were missing limbs or were ill. All were malnourished and stared at him with sad empty eyes as he'd walked by. He'd remembered the hate radiating from the few adults there, the one's who'd gotten away with their lives at the cost of their limbs.

He remembered those long sleepless nights as the nameless faces of those he'd hurt haunted him. He remembered how he'd started laughing to keep himself from screaming. Eventually he had to laugh so much that it became a habit, something without meaning. He remembered shutting off most of his emotions and all of his empathy in an attempt to ward off the guilt he'd felt.

Eventually he began to withdraw from society, something that worried his superiors. But it didn't worry them too much, after all, the fellow was still churning out inventions. By the time they'd even realized something was amiss Kururu had gained a cruel streak and paranoia. His assistants had begun to vanish, one by one as he slipped into madness. Some went to serve as guinea pigs for his inventions but most succumbed to the ever increasing number of traps in Kururu's lab. The ones that escaped reported to headquarters, proclaiming Kururu insane.

Unwilling to lose such a fine mind, the Keron Army reassigned Kururu to the Keroro Platoon, hoping that social interaction and "fresh air" would help clear Kururu's wild mind. And it had, for once Kururu felt that he was a part of something and not on his own. His madness and paranoia went almost completely away and though his cruel streak was still there it was much diminished. But he never had the same ambition as before; instead he preferred to only react, never cause, if he could avoid it anyway. He satisfied his cruelty not in mass murder but in subtle passive aggressiveness.

And yet…here he was. Tormenting his allies for money. Where would it end? Would he slip back into the deep void of insanity? He hoped not. He didn't want to relive that hell. But still, he had to put his foot down somewhere. Keroro could do whatever he damn well pleased with his cash but his money was a far different matter. Without funds, most of his experiments would come to a crashing halt in their most crucial stages. And he shuddered to think what would happen if his electricity was shut off…

He hoped that Keroro would give in soon. If he didn't Kururu was pretty sure that he would throw in the towel. It wasn't that he wasn't enjoying himself, it was that he was scared. He was scared _because_ he was enjoying it. He was terrified that he was sinking into his old ways. But what scared him the most was how much he absolutely loved the idea that he might have to use extreme force or possibly murder to get what he wanted.

If it came to that, he wouldn't know if he could control himself.

--

**SD here again! It's good to get this chapter in, even if it was a little disturbing. On a side note I would like to thank my friend PekoponianDani for getting my lazy bum back to work. She has reallyy good fanfiction that you should read. Anywho here's the part where I go all fancy-pants to get you hyped up about the next chapter.**

**_On the next episode of Payment we get to find out what happened to Tamama! Sound like fun? Well it won't be if you don't like seeing him frustrated, I can tell you that much!_**

**So yeah. that's it for this time. I'm too busy celebrating easter to type up a decent hype. That ham ain't gonna cook itself y'know. Oh and before I forget...**

**_Keroro Gunso belongs to whatever sick mind makes this crap. I do not claim to own it. Any lawyers that happen to read this can get off my back now._**

**So...yes. See you next time!**


End file.
